


Three Heads are Better Than Two

by Epi_girl



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feelings, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jer has two SQUIPs, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-13 14:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epi_girl/pseuds/Epi_girl
Summary: He wakes up, groggily, rubbing at his pulsing forehead, only to jolt back and slam his head on the floor at the sight of two robot-like figures staring down at him, their fluorescent eyes seeming to pierce his soul. Oh god. He wasn't supposed to take two pills, was he?In which Jeremy Heere ends up with two SQUIPs and suffers for it.





	1. It's a Grey- or is it Lavender? -Oblong Pill

It was no secret that Jeremiah Heere wasn't exactly what most people would call cool. He was geeky, shy and awkward, and much of Middleborough High School suspected he was harbouring a crush on his longtime best friend, Michael Mell. (To be fair, they weren't entirely wrong.)

But despite all that, he was still surprised that he was doing this. I mean, most people wouldn't even consider buying a supercomputer to tell you what to do in order to simply improve their social status. But Jeremy was tired of being at the bottom of the metaphorical high school food chain. He'd been there so damn long, hanging on a thread that threatened to snap any second. So when Rich Goranski, popular kid and his bully since tenth grade approached him with the idea of a pill that would help you be cooler? He latched on immediately. Screw the repercussions, he was getting this "SQUIP" thing. 

Micheal was nervous about it. 

Jeremy tried to ignore his best friend's clever judgment. He didn't need to second guess himself now.

-*-*-*-

Frankly, Jeremy didn't understand why Rich hadn't just told him that the SQUIP was cheaper and came in two parts. The original information he'd gotten from the shorter boy was that it was "a 600$, grey, oblong pill". What he received at the back of the Payless shoe store was a grey pill like Rich had described, along with a lavender pill of the same size. Oddly enough, it had only cost 400$. 

Well, 401$. Michael bought him a Mountain Dew to activate the thing. 

 

His mouth tasted fainly of cotton cotton candy and wintergreen mints afterwards. 

 

Nothing happened. Jeremy brushed it off.

It was stupid of him to fall for such a dumb hoax.

-*-*-*-

Well, _something_ happened. Just... at a different time than he'd initially anticipated.

Just a regular night at home. His books about the history of gaming, Legend of Zelda, and his father wandering around the house without pants. (The last one was something he wished wasn't normal.) A controller in his hands, Jeremy methodically fiddled with the buttons, exploring the game the way he'd done a million times before. Link jumped across the screen, experience and memory taking over as the pale boy zoned out, thoughts drifting. As per the usual. What wasn't part of his usual, nightly routine was the way Jeremy felt his body begin to tingle, the soft buzzing sensation creeping down through his limbs and making him shiver, seemingly deciding to rest ominously in his fingertips and the ends of his toes. Anxious at the odd feeling, the teenager paused Zelda, eyebrows furrowed as he glared down at his pale, pinkened skin.

A sharp jolt of pain, followed by a searing feeling that crept out along his skin, starting from his spine, caused Jeremy to shriek, as though his nerve endings were all set ablaze.

Then the world went blurry, the shock still working through his system.

 

And Jeremy collapsed to the ground, sliding down his beanbag chair as his almost unhealthily thin body convulsed with the stabs of electricity.

-*-*-*-

Jeremy woke up a while later (time had seemed to disappear), bleary and painfully groggy, rubbing at his pulsing forehead, only to jolt back and slam his head sharply on the floor at the sight of two robot-like figures staring down at him, their fluorescent eyes seeming to pierce his soul. One seemed cold, its glowing, aqua eyes boring into him in a judging manner, in a way that made him want to do nothing more than curl up and cower. The other appeared sweeter, the pale pink rings that seemed to be its eyes flickering over his gaunt form, a tiny smile on its metallic face. This wasn't right...

 _Oh god_. He wasn't supposed to take two pills, was he?

 

Why, oh _why_ , didn't Rich give more specific directions?

 

 

 


	2. Instructions VS Compliments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy hopes that they were just a bad dream. He practically prays for it to be a dream and that he'll wake up, as awkward and empty-headed as always. They were a dream, right?
> 
> (Spoiler alert: the SQUIPs were no dream.)

Jeremy awoke with a sharp grunt, his eyes bleary and head foggy, the image of two robot-like, humanoid figures with brightly shining, unnaturally coloured eyes looming over his body fresh in his sleep-addled mind. Speaking of which, why was he awake? The alarm hadn't gone off yet, had something or someone woken him  up-- 

"OW!" The lanky teenager yelped, spine arching with the force of an electric shock. Whipping his head around, wavy hair slapping against his flushed, freckles cheek. "Wha' th' hell?" 

"Tsk." Came a cold, detached voice, and another jolt. "Slurring. Can't have that, it makes you sound like a drunken idiot."

"Now, now." A softer voice, similar to the first, but far less metallic, emerged. 

"What the hell!" Jeremy screamed, clutching at his pale forehead, head pulsing as he sat up. What on earth was this? Was he possessed? Had aliens taken over? Were-- oh. Oh. Oh no. Please no. He paused, slender hands lowering to his black sheets, star patterned, the thick blanket draped over his legs sliding down his shins as he  pulled them up closer to his chest, dark eyes focusing and going wide in shock and slight exasperation, if he was being honest. The SQUIPs.  Did.... they worked. Oh dear god.

This wasn't good.

A robotic, echoing scoff sounded within the teenagers aching skull. "Of course. It took you far too long to decipher that simple fact." A disappointed sigh that hurt far more than it should have. Jeremy winced. "You're going to be a hassle to straighten out. Everything about you is so terrible."

 _Everything about you is so terrible._ The words stung, memories of times when he used to hear that on a constant loop  starting to play in his head--

"That's unrealistic and rude. He's amazing!" The softer voice again. Oh god. Two voices. He had two voices in his head. "Everything about you is just wonderful, Jeremy."

This... was confusing. Where were the voices even coming from? Didn't they have physical forms? Or was that his dreamy mind making things up?

"Oh!" The soft voice. He liked it better. "Sorry, just a moment."

 

Seconds later, the pink-eyed figure from last night, the night that he couldn't remember clearly enough to draw the line between reality and his subconscious mind's bizzare fiction. He should really stop reading every single sci-fi book that anyone recommended. 

A shock shook Jeremy from his thoughts, his long limbs spasming briefly. A soft noise of protest escaped him, mirrored by the pink-eyed... thing beside him. What even were they? 

"Super Quantum Unit Intel Processors." The two voices said in unison, the soft, lilting tone of the kinder one blending unnaturally well with the sharp, metallic voice of the angrier one. The rude, what was it, SQUIP? Yeah, that.... It materialized, pixels skittering down and apart and together, eventually becoming clear as the blue-eyed, cold and aloof, second robotic figure from last night, the nightmare that was less dream-like than before, but no less hellish. They were actually there. He had computers in his brain.

"Jeremy Heere. Welcome to your SQUIPs." They chorused.

 

Fuck.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 300 hits on the first chapter?? Wow. Thank you so much. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this!


	3. Shut up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out school is harder with two, constantly arguing, voices in your head.

Waking up to find the SQUIPs were real, and not just a twisted nightmare, was only the beginning.

-*-*-*-

Jeremy ambled downstairs, yawning and rubbing at one eye, (followed by a shock and a scoff from the blue-eyed SQUIP, and a sigh and reassurance from the pink-eyed one) retro Mario t-shirt hanging loosely off of his thin frame. His sock-clad feet made soft noises against the glossy hardwood floor, thoughts along the lines of  _please be wearing pants_ running through his sleep-addled mind as he stepped onto the main floor.

Padding into the kitchen, the lanky teen braced himself for the inevitable and.... yup. His father stood there, at the counter, pouring cereal. Sans pants.

Why did he think anything was going to change?

"Because you're naive and overly optimistic. Another flaw to straighten out. Good _god_ , everything about you makes me want to die." The calm, cold voice chimed in unexpectedly, robotic tones causing Jeremy to jolt in surprise. The reaction prompted a metallic chuckle from the SQUIP. "Jumpy too. Pathetic. You need to be more chill." 

"Oh, come on. It was silent! You scared him, so it's your fault. Apologize." Came the softer voice, airy words calming Jeremy slightly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"I'm simply following my instructions."

"Well, your 'instructions' are hurting him!" The pink-eyed one exclaimed, sounding exasperated. "I'm sorry about him, Jer--"

"--emy?" Called his father, sounding nervous as though he'd said his sons name multiple times before. Oh god.

Maybe this _was_  going to be as bad as he thought.

-*-*-*-

Yeah, this was going to be bad.

Walking into school, his head was immediately filled with the rude one clamouring for him to stand up straight, puff out his chest, arch his back, quote "and some swagger to his gait or he'll look like a masturbator". Basically? It was telling him to fix his posture, the sharp works accompanied by oddly soft shocks (he assumed the pink one was restraining the other) and countering compliments from the aforementioned other SQUIP. His mind was clouded with speech, and he stormed towards his locker with a pinched look on his face, barely reacting when Micheal walked up to him, leaning on the locker beside his with an enthusiastic exclamation of "Jeremy! My buddy!", drawing a few looks that he ignored.

"Oh... hey, man." He responded, wincing when the blue-eyed, bitchy one remarked "You need to stop associating with him." sharply, the icy words met with a gasp and a longwinded rant on Jeremy's long history with the boy from the kinder of the two.

Micheal seemed to deflate a little at his friend's distant greeting, continuing, and ending, the conversation with a quiet "See you at lunch, bro." He walked away, appearing somewhat dejected, despite the spring in his step. 

Jeremy couldn't help but wonder if that sort of slight deception was commonplace for his friend.

-*-*-*-

These things talked too much, Jeremy thought absently in class. He couldn't let them ruin his relationships....

"Your friendship with Micheal needs to be ruined, if you have any chance at popularity."

"What is wrong with you?"

Needless to say, Science class was not exactly productive for the teen.

-*-*-*-

Hopefully things would get better from here.

If not, this was shaping up to be an _incredibly_ heinous day.

"Heinous is no longer a mainstream word. Stop using it."

"He can speak how he wants to! _I_ think it's cool."

"You are a program designed to raise his self esteem. Of course you do."

Yeah. This was going to be bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the third chapter. Sorry it's short, I'm really bad at writing long things.


	4. Jeremy, My Buddy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SQUIPs just won't. Shut. UP.

To be perfectly frank, Jeremy had been dreading lunchtime all morning.

Usually, it was the highlight of his day! He got to see Micheal, usually steal his slushie, talk about plans for after school... okay, he just liked lunch because he got to talk to Michael for an hour. Today, though... with one SQUIP insisting that he had to cut ties with his best friend and change everything about himself, and the other bickering with it on the topic and insisting that Jeremy was fine just the way he was... this wasn't going to be fun.

The same heavy cloud of constant words hung over Jeremy, his head pounding and eyes unfocused, barely seeing, as he moved towards his and Michael's regular table, completely running on memory as he watched his converse move along the floor as though he wasn't in control. Michael could have called out to him when he sat down, whil he was resisting the overwhelming urge to scream or cry or just cradle his head in his hands as his friend spoke excitedly about sushi and the way a girl at 7-11 had semi-flirted with him, bobbing his head and speaking in rhythm to what seemed to be Bob Marley.

"Hey, Jer?" Michael's soothing, familiar voice finally broke through the metallic, automated haze of the SQUIPs bickering, a quizzical expression on his face as he slipped his bulky, white headphones down around his neck.

"Hm?" He replied, sounding rough and tired. Not inaccurate, honestly.

"Dude, how were classes? You look like ass, and you're acting preoccupied." It was funny how Michael could switch from telling him that he wasn't looking good to words like 'preoccupied'. Jeremy could have growled at the blue SQUIPs comment of "Another reason to let go of your friendship with him." He twitched, getting back to listening to his best friend. "What's wrong?" The taller teen finished, tilting his head.

He swallowed thickly. "Just a headache." That wasn't a lie, he just... omitted parts of the truth. The SQUIP part. He forced a smile, relieved to see some of the worry lift from Michael's tan face, his eyebrows lifting again. It was unnatural to see them furrowed that way.

"Small comforts, Jeremy. It's okay to tell little white lies."

"Oh. I think I have some Advil somewhere?" Jeremy sighed in relief, a genuine smile on his face despite the clamoring in his head. "Yeah, that'd be nice.."

Jeremy fell silent as Michael began to rummage through his bag, "RIENDS" still very clearly emblazoned on the thick, rough fabric. The half of a word hadn't seemed to fade at all, which struck him as rather odd. Yeah, permanent ink was a things, but even Sharpie had a tendency to wear out a little bit! What kind of marker had Rich used?

A sharp shock, the intensity obviously toned down (why was the pink eyed one even trying?) courses through him, seeming to start at the base of his spine as it caused his head to jerk up, away from Michael's bag. His arms twitched slightly and he nearly let out a strangled cry. What was so weird about considering the intensity and longevity of ink? And why on earth did it warrant being electrocuted?

"Because no one thinks about that, Jeremy. It isn't socially acceptable to have that kind of thought process." "Don't listen to him, Jeremy. You're just more curious than your peers, and that's a good thing." A robotic scoff. "Curiousity killed the cat."

Shaking his head, the pale teen looked back at Michael as he tried feebly to block out the voices in his head. He watched as the boy in question grinned and crowed "Found it!" excitedly, pulling a small tube of Advil from the depths of some obscure pocket of his backpack, still aglow with triumph. "Thanks dude!" Jeremy exclaimed thankfully, grateful for the distraction from the seemingly constant bickering in his mind.

Swallowing a few of the pills, he silently hoped that they would st least lessen the pounding in his head.

-*-*-*-

Surprise, surprise, the painkillers didn't do a damn thing.

If anything, Jeremy's headache seemed to have gotten worse. The text-to-speech-esque arguing of the two SQUIPs bounced around inside his skull, the pain in his head ramping up until it was nearly splitting, agony blotting out everything else as the teacher droned on about some equation he didn't care about, his eyes staring blankly at the front of the room, gaze fixed on the whiteboard. Faintly, in the background, he could hear the clicking of a keyboard and the telltale ding of a notification bell, (probably Jenna Rolan's phone, did that girl ever stop gossiping?) and the frantic scratch of someone's pencil over paper. Maybe that was the new kid? Who knew. But he did seem to write a lot, passionately... maybe that was why he had a scholarship.

The bell rang sharp and clear through the classroom, sending Jeremy to his feet as a fresh wave of pain pulsed in his head. They were still arguing.

As the pale teen stepped out into the hallway, he was nearly toppled over by a freckled boy with curly, auburn hair sprinting by him, racing through the corridor to begin animatedly discussing something with a shorter boy, who's dark circles seemed to indicate exhaustion, though that was vastly contradicted by his excited demeanour, one of his hands running through his shoulder length dark hair.

Jeremy huffed softly, feeling another shock that made him stand up straighter the moment he took a step. There was no point in being confused, nor protesting. He knew what that was.

 

This had to have been the worst day he'd ever had.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JESUS FUCK SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> SORRY ITS SO SHORT
> 
> schools over so I should be able to update more


	5. Christiiiiiiiiiine...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael doesn't turn up at school.
> 
> And a run-in with his longtime crush makes Jeremy start to question things.

Of course, Jeremy didn't sleep a wink.

 

Why?

 

It turned out, _the SQUIPs fucking BEEPED when they weren't active._

Why on _earth_ were these sophisticated, expensive supercomputers that implanted in your brain, some of the most incredible technology ever, designed so badly that they couldn't even stay silent in shutdown mode?

(And why couldn't Jeremy catch a goddamn _break_?)

-*-*-*-

School was going to be hell.

He woke up _way_ too early, shocked into action at 6 o'clock by the stupid blue eyed SQUIP. He tumbled out of bed, bleary eyed, exhausted, but moving nonetheless.

Languidly rummaging through his unkempt dresser drawers as he rubbed his eyes, Jeremy's head was abuzz with the robotic sound of the SQUIPs droning on about clothing, one voice advising him on what to wear to seem cooler than he was, and one trying desperately to tell him that he could dress how he always did. The conflicting opinions of the two weren't surprising, though they were no less irritating the second time around.

The teen sighed, slowly pulling a plain blue t-shirt over his head as he stared at his reflection, frowning at his messy hair and the dark bags under his eyes. He was a mess.

"You're _always_ a mess, Jeremiah."

"Full names, now?" He snapped, too tired to care about the fact that he was probably going to be shocked for that-- " _OW_!"

Absently, he slipped on a pair of washed out jeans-- when did he buy those?--  and started to gather his things, shoving a few textbooks and papers haphazardly into his blue canvas backpack, yawning throughout. He could hear the blue eyed SQUIP grumbling over that, only to be shushed by the other. _Wow_. 

"Jeremy, you're going to be late if you don't get going..."

He swallowed, throwing his backpack on with another muffled yawn. Time for _another_ disaster of a day.

Only after he'd rushed out the door, a mix of insults and praises already starting to build up inside his head, did Jeremy realize he'd forgotten to eat _anything_ for breakfast. 

"You don't need it anyways."

-*-*-*-

Pushing open the glossy, navy blue doors of Middleborough High, Jeremy sighed softly. He could already hear the mettalic voice of a SQUIP telling him he was walking wrong, acting wrong, doing _everything_ wrong that he could possibly be doing. It stung, though it was soothed slightly by the counteracting positive words of the other one, tone slightly less harsh.

However, both were still loud as hell.

And though it had only been half an hour since he woke up, his head felt as though it was being sliced in two with a meat cleaver. By a _very_ inexperienced butcher, he might add.

"That made no sense. Your peers would hate you if you said that out loud."

"Well he didn't, did he?"

Gritting his teeth, Jeremy began to walk stiffly towards his locker, trying his hardest to block out the painfully bland voice telling him that he looked strange and unapproachable--

And the next thing he knew, he'd crashed into someone and was reeling on the floor.

"Pathetic. Everyone's looking at you, they'll hate you now. This wasn't over before it even begun. You're a mess, you'll never be loved, you're _hopeless_ \--"

"--ohmygod ohmygod are you okay?"

Jeremy groaned quietly, pushing himself up into a sitting position at the voice, eyes screwed shut. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..." 

"Are you sure?" It came again, worry evident in its tone. 

"Mhm.." He looked up eyes open ever so slightly-- and he was reeling again, basically staring at the person he'd crashed into. Oh my _god_ , it was Christine.

" _She'll hate you now._ "

"You really don't look fine, I mean, you're on the _floor_ now, and I think you might have a bruise too." Her hands were almost over her mouth, hovering near her face as though she couldn't quite make up her mind what to do with them, dark eyes wide and worried. Worried about _him_.

Christine seemed to realize something, hands dropping to her sides before she raised them again, gesturing slightly as she spoke. "I shouldn't be talking right now, I should help you up!" She froze. "I'm doing it _again_!"

(Maybe Jeremy should have been blushing as she extended a hand, smiling sweetly down at him. Maybe he should have felt like he was floating as he accepted the gesture, letting her pull him to his feet. Maybe that's what a crush was supposed to feel like.

Instead, he was just glad someone cared enough to get him off the ground.)

-*-*-*- 

With his head pounding as though someone was bashing it with a sledgehammer, Jeremy was really hoping for some form of relief in seeing Michael. He felt detached, wrong, conflicted. Almost as though he was a stranger in his own body. He just needed familiarity. Badly.

But, because life fucking sucks, and _never_ works out, he wasn't even in the cafeteria.

Of all the days for Michael to miss school...

Jeremy turned on his heel with a quiet hiss of frustration, clutching his head in his hands despite the outcry from one SQUIP not to do that. The cafeteria wasn't worth it. Everything hurt, and he just didn't care anymore. 

 _This day probably can't  get much worse_ , he thought, storming towards a stairwell.

 _Probably_.

He did seem to have the absolute worst luck on the planet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS CHAPTER TOOK DEAR LORD
> 
> I had writers block for the longest time, I swear... 
> 
> I am going to try to get a lot of chapters out between now and next Friday, because I'm going to be gone for 10 or so days on a camping trip. Sorry about that.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
